Princess in the Clouds
by sui generis1
Summary: The princess is back! Mia's been different lately, probably because the love of her life, Michael, finally admitted to loving her back. But what happens when Michael goes to college? And when new friends need to be made? All after book 3. ch15's done!
1. Home Again, Home Again, Jiggetyjog

Disclaimer: None of this stuffs is mine. Well actually...that's a lie. See, I wrote this, but I didn't write the Princess Diaries. I mean, this is supposed to be a Princess Diaries book, but it's not, cause I'm not Meg Cabot. So all these characters? These are hers. Not mine. Hers. Not mine. Hers. How I wish it was the other way around so I could have a movie made about my writings that really has nothing to do with my writings...  
Author's Notes: Umm...ok...A few notes about me. My name is Luna, and I rarely capitalize. I'm trying really hard for the sake of this story, but I might just...skip by accident. Ok. I have absolutely no idea where this story is going, but I wanted to write a fanfic on the Princess Diaries, because I didn't want to write one on Harry Potter. And with this, it's almost like your own journal (if you were the princess of Genovia with an enemy named Lana Wienberger and an extremely hott boyfriend named Michael and a limo and a penthouse and a strange gramma and stuffs). Concerning the story: I kinda skipped through the first trip to Genovia, but there will be little references to it here and there. I just thought it would be too boring and I would lose reader and people wouldn't want to give me hits on my story, they'd want to give me hits on my face. Two: I'm upset because I can't make lists, according to ff.n. Mia constantly makes list, which, I admit can be annoying, but that's how she writes. So I'll see what I can do to get around this...Number three: this story rated PG13 for cursing (oOo! a-word!), un-capitalized letters, and mean grammas that can be nice. And French. Pardon my French.   
  
The Princess Diaries, Fanfiction Volume I  
Princess in the Clouds  
  
  
Sunday, December 30, 10:35 am  
Honestly, Genovia is nice. I mean, Grandmère is always telling my about the white sand beaches, the tourism rate updates. But I always forget that Genovia isn't as beautiful as home.  
I guess Fat Louie missed me. Either that, or Mom and Mr. Gianini didn't feed him enough, because the minute he heard the key turning in the lock, he shot into the kitchen (well, for Fat Louie it's shooting, to the rest of us it's waddling in a hurry) and jumped up on the table next to where I was standing and sniffed me. I put my bags and my keys on the table and picked him up. This was difficult. And he stayed there for a few seconds until he noticed I put my keys down, and he proceeded to jump back onto the table and take them to the bathroom to hide them behind the toilet. I groaned. It would be a tricky process to get them back. I'd have to do it while he was eating...  
"Mom?" I called. I didn't call Mr. Gianini because during the week before I'd left for Genovia, he'd been urging me to call him Frank. Ok, hello, Mr. G? I'm so never calling you Frank. To call you Frank at home and then Mr. Gianini at school would get extremely confusing, and if I accidentally called him Frank at school, I'd be totally embarrassed.  
Anyway, nobody answered, so I checked the kitchen to see if Mom or Mr. G left a note. Non. So I picked up the phone and did what I've been wanting to do since I left him: call Michael. Someone picked up the phone on the second ring.  
"Hey, this is Mia. Is--"  
"Mia!" Lily greeted. "...Wow. You're home early."  
Uh-oh. Totally not who I had been expecting to pick up. Something told me to tell Lily about Michael and I, but knowing Lily, I just couldn't. So instead I opened my mouth, forcing words to come out. "Um...Lily. Hi! How are you? D'ja miss me?"  
Oh, I am so good. See Mom? being an accomplished liar definitely has its perks.  
"Absolutely. Shameeka had to take over your spot on the show, but we managed. Hey, I was thinking of holding a protest outside school..."  
I absentmindedly opened the fridge, thinking of Michael. Did I ever tell you he has really nice eyes? Well...he has really nice eyes.  
I saw our electric bill in the ice bin. I wonder if Michael likes ice, I thought. I'd have to ask him.  
I was pulled out of my dreams but the mentioning of the word Michael.  
"...such a pain in the ass. He could take over your spot so Shameeka could do her job, but no. He spent the whole week sitting in his room, lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn't even go on the computer. He just left it on the whole week. I mean, God. Talk about a waste of space. Which reminds me, he got a new phone line because he was tying ours up..."  
Michael. On-line. "Hey, Lily?" I asked in a dreamy sort of way, "Can I call you back? I just got home, I have to unpack and stuff. You know."  
"Uh...Yeah, Mia, sure. But I'll be a little busy, so call me back around 12. Mia...are you feeling ok? You sound really weird. What did that grandmother of yours do--"  
"Yeah...ok...bye." And I flew to my room, just barely hanging the phone up as I went.  
I signed on and saw Michael was on, but idle. Still, I wasted no time instant messaging him:  
  
FtLouie: Psst...Michael!  
CracKing: Mia! You're home! God, what took you so long? How'd everything go?  
FtLouie: Well, I guess you could say that addressing the country that you'll someday reign over is a little easier when you're not nervous.  
CracKing: Whoa--you weren't nervous?  
FtLouie: No, I think I'll blame all the throwing up on having to look at the roast pork on the table in front of me while I spoke.  
CracKing: Oh, Mia...  
FtLouie: So how are you?  
CracKing: I don't know...could be better I guess, considering that I haven't seen you for a week.  
  
I heard the door in the kitchen open. "Mom?" I yelled. "Mr. G?"  
My mother came running in, arms spread wide. "You're home!" She embraced me for two seconds before she pulled back, her hand over her mouth. She ran. I sniffed my armpits. Was it me??  
And that's when I remembered my mother was well into her fourth month of pregnancy. I'd thought about her over my week in Genovia, but I hadn't really thought about the baby. It was still a little hard to get used to. I figured I should go stand with her in the bathroom to hold her hair back.  
  
FtLouie: Michael, I've got to go...My mom's home and she's, you know, puking.  
CracKing: Ok...well, do you want to come over later?  
FtLouie: Yeah, sure. Lily's not going to be there, right?  
CracKing: I don't know. Why, would it be weird?  
FtLouie: No...I just haven't told her yet.  
CracKing: You haven't TOLD HER?  
FtLouie: Um, no. Didn't you?  
CracKing: No! I thought you did!  
FtLouie: Alright...this is ok...let's calm down. I'll come over later, and we'll both tell her.  
CracKing: Yeah, I guess.   
FtLouie: Ok, I have to go. You know...stand in the bathroom. For moral support and stuff.  
CracKing: Ok. What time do you think you can come?  
  
I heard a really loud splash in the bathroom, and some throwing-up sounds from my mother. Ech.  
  
FtLouie: Michael I really have to go.  
CracKing: Um...alright 7 then.   
FtLouie: Yeah. See you soon.  
  
And then I logged off.   
  
My mother looked up as I entered the bathroom, looking a little green. She misinterpretted the look on my face.  
"Don't worry, Mia." she said, "This is all normal for a pregnant woman...Excuse me." And she bent over the toilet again.  
All I have to say is this baby better be worth all this. He's interrupting my boyfriend time. 


	2. Princess Procrastination

Disclaimer: Characters not miney. Meg Cabot's. Ja.  
Author's Notes: Um...ok. a few things: number one: this takes place after the third book but number two: Lily doesn't know. Tina does. Grandmère does. Sebastiano knows. The King of Genovia knows, but Mia's best friend doesn't. Go figure. And I did this for the sake of conflict, so...salmon. See? This is what happens when you listen to Tiny Tim singing Spongebob songs while writing a plotless stories.  
  
3:45 pm, the loft  
Maybe I won't go over Michael's. I can't tell Lily. She'll flip out.  
  
5:15 pm, the loft  
I can't do it. I can't go. I'll have to tell Michael something. I'll.. tell him that going means missing Baywatch.  
But then I'd have to admit I watch Baywatch.  
  
6:53, the limo on the way to Lily/Michael's  
Ok, so I couldn't think of a good excuse.  
Plus, I really didn't want to because I want to see Michael so badly.  
Here goes nothing.  
  
8:00, the loft  
Well. That went great.  
NOT.  
I got out of the limo, and there's Michael, taking out the trash. Or...well he said he was waiting for me, but he needed a good excuse. So then we were in the alley with the garbage cans, kind of making out, until after about two minutes I realized the limo was still there, making sure I got in safely. Woops.  
"Ready?" he asked me.   
What was I supposed to say? "No, Michael, I'm not ready because Lily's my best friend and knowing her she'll throw a fit if she finds out from me, and throw a bigger one if she finds out from someone else, and so even though i really don't want to tell her I have to because she's going to analyze me either way, and you seem to really want to get this over with and I'm madly, head-over-heels in love with you, so great. Here we go."  
But instead I just took his hand and walked up to their stupid apartment with him. He fumbled for his keys and, I noticed, didn't take my hand again when he had found them. Instead he just unlocked the door. "Lily?" he called.  
We walked into the living room and found the Drs. Moscovitz reading the newspaper with the television on. "Hello, Mia." Mrs. Moscovitz greeted over her newspaper.  
"Lily just left," Michael's dad said without taking his eyes off the article he was reading on physiology. "She took a bus to get some blank video tapes for her show.  
Michael and I exchanged glances. "Oh," Michael said. "Mia just wanted to say hi. I'm gonna help her with some algebra homework, ok?"  
"But doesn't she have an algebra teacher living in her home now?"  
"Well, yes," I said, thinking fast, "But he doesn't have much time for tutoring, considering my mother's...um...state."  
"Oh, right. Tell her we say hi."  
"Ok," I said as Michael and I headed to his room. Once inside, I flopped onto his computer chair, a little relieved that Lily wasn't here.  
Michael sat down on his bed and said loudly, "Ok. You obviously don't understand integers. Here..."  
I laughed and swirled around in his computer chair. My eyes saw something familiar next to his computer. I pulled the piece of paper out from underneath his DOS manuals.  
What I held in my hands was the spreadsheet from the Times with me in all of Sebastiano's dresses. My eyes scanned the pictures. I hated how I didn't look happy at all, not one bit. Michael blushed. "That's...uh...There's an article on the back that sounded interesting."  
I turned it over. There was an ad for Aida. I am so sure.  
I put the spreadsheet back under the pillow and sat on the bed next to him and started kissing him. His lips are so soft, like pillows...  
I suddenly pulled back and said, loud enough for the Drs. Moscovitz to hear, "But then what does A equal? And what about--"  
I couldn't finish because he started kissing me again. 


	3. Coffee, Coffee, Love

Disclaimer: The Princess Diaries is the Sole Property of Meg Cabot. Cheese Ice Cream.  
Author's Notes: LOOK I CAN CAPITALIZE!  
  
Monday, December 31, 2:06 AM, the loft  
You know what I just realized? Today's New Year's Eve.  
I'm going back to sleep...  
  
2:15 AM, the loft  
OH MY GOD TODAY'S NEW YEAR'S EVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
4:45 AM, the loft  
I've been making my special pasty instant coffee non-stop to keep me awake. Coffee, coffee, coffee...  
This is so great. New Year's Eve, and I have a boyfriend to kiss at midnight. and 11:59. and 11:58...  
Life could not be better. I mean, it probably could, if I lacked my gigantism and I had some mammary glands of some sort...but WHO CARES???????  
  
5:00 AM, the loft  
Mr. Gianini just came down with a baseball bat raised over his shoulder. "Oh, it's only you, Mia," he said, seeing me sitting on the floor and lowering the bat.   
"Want some coffee?" I asked him, "Coffee, coffee, coffee!" And then I lied down on the floor, still saying coffee.  
"Um...maybe you should get some rest, Mia."  
Rest? REST?? IT'S NEW YEAR'S EVE, FRANKY BOY!  
  
5:30 AM, the loft  
Ok. So I just called Michael on his new line:  
Michael: (in a groggy, tired voice) Hello?  
Me: Michael, it's Neeeeww Year's Eeeeve! Wake up!  
Michael: Mia?  
Me: Uh huh.  
Michael: What're you doing up so early? Its....it's 5:30! In the morning!  
Me: But it's New Year's Eve.  
Michael: But it's 5:30.  
Me: But it's New Year's Eve.  
Michael: Listen...as much as I love you, and I d--"  
  
This snapped me out of my coffee haze.  
I mean...I know Michael loves me, and I know I love Michael, but it was never...casually stated like this.  
  
Me: What?  
  
Ok, I know Grandmère totally would have killed me for saying that, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her.  
  
Michael: Huh?  
Me: You...love me?  
Michael: Yes. I thought you knew this, Mia...  
Me: Um...I guess I did...I know I did...but...  
Michael: Why...don't you love me?  
Me: Duh, Michael. Of course I do.  
Michael: Great then. I'll come over around 9, ok?  
Me: Ok. See you then.  
  
It's amazing how he can do that.  
  
THINGS TO DO BEFORE MICHAEL COMES  
1. Scoop Fat Louie's litter box  
2. Buy  
Sparkling cider  
Cake? Something New Years-y to eat  
Canned cat food  
Toilet Paper  
3. Find out whether or not Mom and Mr. G will be here tonight  
4. If so, prepare bathroom for puke. 


	4. Makeovers and Memory

Disclaimer: Um...ok, I don't own Meg Cabot's stuff, I don't own Coca Cola, I don't own Stella D'oro, I don't own Frosted Flakes, and I don't own you. Congratulations!  
Author's Note: People love me people love me!!!!! Hey, loving people, I wrote more for you because you love me and I love you because you love me. This is better than double overtime at the Krusty Krab! This one goes kind of off-track from the story, and I kind of couldn't resist some of the weird humor stuff I put in here. Don't take any of it offensively, I just got really bored.  
  
Monday, December 31st, 8:00 am, the loft  
AHH! I've been running around the house for three hours Lemon-Pledging things and trying to figure out if the blow-dryer has a reverse, because the vacuum broke (turns out it's been broken for three months. Did Mom think to tell me this? As if). I need a break. Maybe I'll make some powdered iced tea or something....yeah...  
  
9:00 AM, the loft  
Oh my God! I just had the best poetic inspiration over some instant iced tea while listening to the Backstreet Boys. Ok, here goes nothing:  
  
Michael  
By Mia Thermopolis  
  
You love me,  
I love you,  
We'll stick together  
And when you're not here and I think about you too much and I get woozly about the thought of you and I feel blue  
  
But when you're around  
I'm in my own little land  
Where the cats are skinny  
And grandmothers understand  
  
My heart goes through  
A wonderful sensation  
And I know that with you  
I'll reach self-actualization  
  
I wish Lemon Pledge  
Smelled like you  
Without you I don't  
Know what I'd do  
  
The only thing better  
Would be if my breasts were super-sized  
So let's get together  
And be psycho-analyzed.  
  
  
  
What do you think??  
Was that good, or WHAT!!!!!!!???????  
  
  
10:00 AM, the loft  
Ok, I've finished my iced tea. I should probably get back to cleaning now. I have a lot to do.  
  
11:00 AM, the loft  
Did you know that it's impossible to lick your elbow? I've been trying for the last half an hour, and no luck.  
  
11:30 AM, the loft  
Oh, I was SO close that time!!!  
  
12:00 AM  
My mother just woke up. She wanted to know what I was doing, but I couldn't answer because she ran away with her hand over her mouth. Honestly, the pregnancy thing is really cutting into our conversations lately.  
And now I should get back to cleaning.  
  
1:00 PM  
Mr. G just went out for some stomach stuff for my mother to try and control my mother's puking, because she's wretched so much in the past hour that I started to get scared that she'd barf out the baby. I have no idea if that's possible, but we can't take any chances. THIS IS MY FUTURE BROTHER/SISTER!!!!!  
I should go hold her hair back until Mr. G comes back.  
  
1:30 PM  
Mr. Gianini just called to say he got a flat tire, and the tow truck's stuck in the snow, so it might take a while for him to get back.  
Well. He's having a lucky day, huh?  
I guess I'll have to put my cleaning aside and play the role of THE GOOD DAUGHTER!  
I am so sure. Wasn't it me who pulled the fire alarm at school a week and a half ago? And stepped on Lana's cell phone? And smashed a King Cone into her dry-clean only sweater? And wasn't it me that never told my best friend that I'm going out with her brother?  
I've said it before and I'll say it again: if anyone's fit to be a princess, it certainly isn't me.  
  
2:30 PM  
Mr. G's home. Now I can finally clean the house. You'd think people here would understand that you have to clean because you're BOYFRIEND'S coming over, and you'd rather give him the false impression that you live a tidy life instead of living the way I prefer to.  
Although he probably already knows this on account of the fact that he tutors me in Algebra, and my columns go practically all over the page.  
  
3:30  
What I've gotten done:  
1. Cleaned litter box  
2. Taken dirty dishes out of living room  
3. Washed dirty dishes from living room, as well as all other dirty dishes  
4. Taken keys from Fat Louie's stash after distracting him with catnip and locking him in room  
  
4:30  
5. Called limo and told them to arrive at 9 to pick Mom and Mr. G up  
6. Blown up blow-dryer  
7. Thrown away blow dryer pieces  
  
4:45  
8. Called supermarket and placed delivery:  
  
Jefferson Market  
The freshest produce--guaranteed   
Fast, Free Delivery  
  
Order no. 8049  
  
1 bottle Sparkling Cider  
1 Cake  
1 box Stella D'oro cookies  
1 package microwave artificial butter popcorn  
2 cans cat food in Chicken and Tuna Feast (flaked) and Ocean Fish Feast (flaked)  
1 box dry cat food  
1 box Coca Cola  
1 quart skim milk  
1 bag assorted nuts  
1 bow Frosted Flakes  
1 roll toilet paper  
1 hair blow dryer  
  
Deliver to:  
Mia Thermopolis, 1005 Thompson Street, #4A  
  
5:00  
9. Emptied out closet onto bed, trying to find the right thing to wear.  
  
6:00  
Jeans and my comfy turtle-neck sweater should be fine. Right?  
  
6:15  
Ok. So I put my clothes on my chair because knowing my luck, I'll just dirty them up anyway. For that matter, I'll probably shouldn't do my hair and make-up now, either. I'll do that all around 8:45. Yeah. You can't do much damage in fifteen minutes, right??  
  
I think I'll just take a little nap now, since I've been up since three, running around the hou  
  
7:11  
Lilly just called me and woke me up.  
Lilly: Hey, you gonna come over or what?  
Me: What??  
Lilly: MIA! I asked you right when you came home from Genovia if you wanted to come over for New Year's!  
Me: Uhhhh....  
  
Because I DID vaguely remember Lilly asking me that on the phone while I was dazing, thinking about Michael.   
Thinking about MY BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER WHILE SHE TALKED TO ME.  
Now or never. I had to tell her.  
  
Me: Um...Lilly, I have something to tell you.   
Lilly: (let out an aggravated shriek) I KNEW you'd forget! I just knew it! It's like you've had no time for me lately! Forget it, I don't need you. I'll just call Boris.  
  
And then she hung up.   
Great. 


	5. Remorse and Romance

Disclaimer: This is story inspired by....Meg Cabot, the queen of all that is Princess, as long as it is Diary.  
Author's Note: Um...The ball dropping, for any of you that have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, is an American tradition. Everyone tunes their TV in to a news station to watch this huge ball of little lights and things drop to the ground a minute before midnight of New Year's Eve. Oh...and Lilly is such a killjoy. Seriously.   
  
Tuesday, January 1st, 12:00 PM, the loft  
  
Last night went better than I expected. Except Michael risked getting in major trouble with his parents for me, but it ended up ok. I had all this sparkling apple cider, and found out AFTERWARDS that it has like 1% alcohol in it. From now on, I vow to check the label before I start drinking things.   
  
Sometimes I think that Michael can read my mind, because he knew that night that I was feeling horribly about the whole thing with Lilly.  
  
"Relax," Michael said to me, getting his fingers stuck in my massive head of hair in an attempt to smooth it down. "It's ok. We'll tell her tomorrow, and everything will be fine. Promise."  
  
"I don't WANT to tell her!" I said, wiping my eyes. "Imagine what she'll say...she'll hate me...Can't we just lie?"  
  
Now that I think about it, Michael TOTALLY should have taken that as an insult, but he's too caring.   
  
"Mia, she's done this kind of stuff to you all the time."  
  
"No...no she hasn't," I said, putting my head on his chest.  
  
"Yeah, of course she has! What about...what about when she ran away with Hank?"  
  
"You mean when she helped Hank. And what about it?"  
  
Michael made a face at my defense. "She could have told you where she was going. I mean, her reasons for not doing it were ridiculous!"  
  
"But remember? She had a good excuse...she said, 'Do you know how fragile the male ego is?' and 'You know how fatalistic boys can be.' "  
  
"Exactly! And if that was true, then I wouldn't be sitting here with you while you tell me things like this."  
  
A short laugh protruded through my tears.   
  
"And what about when she interviewed you when you slept over? Did you give her your permission?" Michael continued.  
  
"No, but she told me that was because I would have said no anyway."  
  
"So she knew that you wouldn't want her to do that, and she went ahead with it anyway."  
  
I wiped my nose with the back of my sleeve. "I guess so."  
  
"And what about when she inconsiderately scheduled that walk-out during your own stepfather's Algebra class, so your only option was to pull the fire alarm and risk suspension."  
  
And suddenly, all that was going through my head was "OH, CRAP!" I lifted my head off his chest to look at his face.. "Was it that obvious?"  
  
Michael laughed and sat back. "It was just a hunch."  
  
I lied down and put my head in his lap and just sat there, thinking. After a few minutes, I spoke.  
  
"You're right. She always does this stuff to me."  
  
Michael laughed, smoothing my hair down again, only this time I noticed, more carefully. "I'm always right."  
  
And then we realized what time it was. And then night went, the ball dropped, and lips touched...  
  
And afterwards, we were both so tired that we fell asleep on the couch. 


	6. Welcome to Weinburger

Disclaimer: Meg Cabot owns this, yeah, yeah, yeah...  
Author's Notes: sorry you guys. I will DEFINITELY let you know when this story is done, I've just been experiencing some writer's block...um...rated PG13 for...bad bad words.  
  
Wednesday, January 2, 9:00 AM, the loft  
Mom has a big art show tomorrow, so she's down in her studio, "putting on the last touches". As if. She hasn't painted anything in--  
  
Hold on, the phone's ringing.  
  
9:30 AM  
Oh my God, I just got off the phone with Lana Weinberger.  
LANA WEINBERGER, oh my GOD!!  
Although, considering the circumstances, I think I handled it pretty smoothly:  
  
Lana: Um...hi, is Mia there?  
Me: This is Mia. May I ask who's speaking?  
  
Which, I know, sounded very operator-ish, but it's how Grandmère taught me to answer the phone, and because I had absolutely no idea who was speaking, and part of me thought that it WAS Grandmère, and part of me thought the press had gotten hold of my phone number.  
  
L: Er...hey, Mia. This is Lana.  
M: ...  
L: Lana...Weinberger?  
M: .........Ha, ha, very funny Lilly.  
L: Look, this wasn't my idea, ok? Josh says...Josh got all Buddhist on me and thinks that I treat everyone besides him like crap--  
M: Hmm...Go figure.  
L: --and he wants me to start being nicer to people because it's concerned about my karra.  
M: You mean karma.  
L: Right...whatever. And I figured I should definitely start with you, because ever since you became a princess, I've been picking on you a lot more than--  
M: Because you're jealous.  
L: Y--What?! Why would I be jealous of YOU?  
M: Right. Whatever.  
L: So Josh basically said that he'd break up with me if I didn't stop being such a bitch to people like you...  
M: Oh yeah. That's a plan in action.  
L: So ANYWAY, I figured you must have SOME redeeming qualities...I mean, it's not like you're FORCED to wear Genovian designer clothes, right?  
M: Actually--  
L: So I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the mall with me Friday. Because...you know...it's better to have friends than enemies, right?  
  
This is when I started thinking about my princessy duties. I mean, I have to be nice to her. Plus, if I didn't do this, she could totally call every teen magazine in the nation, and I could totally drop beneath Princess Beatrice and Eugenie in the Most Popular Young Royal poll.  
  
M: Umm...yeah, I guess. But only because it's better to have more friends than enemies.  
L: Right. So see you Friday.  
And then she hung up.  
  
  
All I have to say is, if anyone sees me at the mall with Lana Weinberger, I'm DEAD. 


	7. A Pugnicity With a Pug

Disclaimer: I wrote this. Meg Cabot inspired.  
Author's Notes: THIS IS IT!!! One of the pivitol moments in this story! Relax though, it's not the end.  
Author's Tips: Tip #3: Go straight to the source for inspiration (for a Princess Diaries fanfic, you should visit megcabot.com, the Princess Diaries books, etc.).  
  
Thursday, January 3, 10:00 AM, the loft  
  
Mom just came back from the studio. She threw her Peach Madness smoothie up all over her canvas, and that the whole studio smells "peachy keen" and it's driving her insane.  
  
"But Mom!" I protested, "You have that huge show tomorrow at the--"  
  
"I know that, Mia. Just relax, ok? It's under control." And then she just walks into her room where Mr. G was and closes the door.  
As if.  
  
12:00 AM, the loft  
Hours until I meet Lana Weinberger at the mall: 24  
Hours until my life is ruined: 24  
  
  
Friday, January 4, 11:30, the loft  
Okay. Purse? Check.   
Cell phone? Check.   
Sunglasses (so no one in the press recognizes me. Or worse, my friends!)? Check.  
  
11:45, the loft  
Lars still has to come, but I negotiated with Dad, so he's going to be on the same floor, but not breathing down my neck. He'll call my cell phone every 15 minutes to check in. And I've got his number on speed dial (just in case an immigrant from a rival country to Genovia captures and abducts me in Bloomingdale's). Meanwhile, Lars can look at things he'd be more interested in, as opposed to the back of my head. Like guns.  
  
Hahahaha. As if they'd sell guns in a mall in New York.   
  
Uh-oh. The limo's here. Here goes nothing.  
  
4:00 PM, limo ride on the way to the loft  
Oh, wow! That was just spectacular, like everything else in my wonderful life!  
NOT!  
  
It turned out that Lana and I have a lot in common. I mean, we totally like the same stores and stuff. We even went into Walden's, and I was SO freaked out when she and I split up for five minutes, and both showed up at the cash register with a copy of Emanuelle! Well, she had a new issue of some teen magazine with her too, but still.  
  
And then, after about three and a half hours of shopping, we walked out of Macy's with all of our bags and stuff, and THERE WAS LILLY, WALKING TOWARDS US WITH BORIS.  
  
And she TOTALLY recognized me, even though I was wearing my sunglasses. Her mouth just dropped and she went, "MIA?!?!?" And she just stood there, gaping and looking from me to Lana, and then back to me.  
  
I got my mouth working. "Lilly! Hi...Listen, I can totally expl---"  
  
"EXPLAIN?!? No, Mia, you SO can't. Nothing you say is going to help AT ALL."  
  
"Lana and I-"  
  
"I CANNOT believe this!! I mean, I was ALREADY mad at you for forgetting about me on New Year's, but THIS? This tops all!"  
  
"Just let me--"  
  
"I thought I could trust you! We used to hate her! She's completely superficial, remember? I guess all this Princess crap went to your head."  
  
"Lilly, that is so unfair! You're always holding everything I do against me! What is it that I do that's finally going to satisfy you?"  
  
"Well, certainly not this! Screw our damn friendship, Mia. We're OVER." And with that, she threw me the coldest look ever, and turned on her heel, Boris in tow.  
  
"Hey Lilly!"  
  
She turned.  
  
"Just thought that maybe you should know...your brother's an excellent kisser."  
  
Her jaw flew down again, looking at me in pure shock.   
  
"Come on, Lana," I said, giving a sarcastic smile and a little wave at my ex-best friend and walking away from the whole thing. 


	8. Random Ramblings

Disclaimer: I do NOT like writing disclaimers. Oh...AND this is Meg Cabot's stuffs.  
Author's Notes: I love Michael! Seriously, I wish he weere aliiive....  
  
Friday, January 4, 5:00 PM, the loft  
  
CracKing: So...I'm an excellent kisser, huh?  
FtLouie: Michael!! That's besides the point!!  
CracKing: Well, I'd tell you that you're an excellent kisser, too, but that would completely disturb my gloating.  
FtLouie: Really?! Because I---Michael! Weren't you paying attention to any of this other stuff?!  
CracKing: Yeah. You stood up to my sister.  
FtLouie: And...  
CracKing: And that, I'm not too surprised about. But Weinberger???  
FtLouie: Just give her a chance.  
CracKing: As long as you tell me what a good kisser I am again.  
FtLouie: Okay, you obviously don't understand how upset I am, and talking to you like this doesn't help. Do you think you could come over here? Like, since Lilly's lives with you and I can't come there if she's there?  
CracKing: Uh...yeah, I guess. How long am I staying?  
FtLouie: For dinner? I'll order out; Mr. G and my mom are still at her art show.  
CracKing: Am I sleeping over again?  
FtLouie: Only if you want to.  
CracKing: Alright. So I'll tell my parents I'm sleeping over Kenny's.  
FtLouie: But I thought I'd send a limo over. Kenny doesn't have a limo.  
CracKing: ...even though I've hated him ever since Rocky Horror, I'm sure my parents don't know that.  
FtLouie: Just tell them you're sleeping over here. Who cares. We've got no one to hide from anymore, right?  
CracKing: Oh, yeah. That might take some getting used to. Okay, so I'll be over in an hour. And I'll bring my lips with me!  
FtLouie: STOP THAT!!  
(CracKing has signed off.)  
  
2:30 AM, the loft  
Shhh. Michael's sleeping.  
  
Everything went ok, but the evening was unbelievable: Michael definitely help lighten the mood. I even think Fat Louie likes him!   
  
But this was the unbelieveable part: Mr. G and my mom came home $5,000 RICHER!!!! It turns out my mom SOLD her Peach Madness Smoothie puke-on-a-canvas!!!!   
  
Me: But Mom! Didn't you tell them that it was....throw-up?  
Mom: No, Mia! Of course not!  
Mr. G: We decided that we were gonna spend the money on improving the loft.  
Me: The loft doesn't need improving.  
Mom: Oh, Mia, we just figured we'd get the kitchen wallpapered and tiled--  
Mr. G: And we even thought it would be fun if, over spring break, we painted the living room together!  
  
Oh, boy.  
  
Michael just rolled over in his sleeping bag. I told him I'd sleep on the floor, but he insisted. "The floor's no place for a princess," he told me.  
  
Aww...I love him so much...  
  
3:00 AM, the loft  
Hmmm. Looking back in this journal, I found something that I completely forgot about:   
  
"So after I'd thought about it, I said I would put out for Josh Richter, but only if:  
  
1. We'd been dating for at least a year.  
2. He pledged his undying love to me.  
3. He took me to see Beauty and the Beast on boradway and didn't make fun of it.  
  
Michael said the first two sounded all right, but if the third one was an example of the kind of boyfriend I expected to get, I'd be a vrgin for a long, long time."  
  
8:00 AM, the loft  
Me: Hey, Michael? Remember that list I made when you asked me if I would put out for Josh Richter?  
Michael: Uhh...yeah. The one about Beauty and the Beast, right?  
Me: Yeah.  
Michael: What about it?  
Me: What? Oh...nothing. Just...testing your memory. I think.  
  
He just gave me a funny look and said he was going to take a shower before he left.  
  
3:00 PM, the loft  
OH MY GOD!!!  
I just measured my chest, which is something I totally haven't done in the longest time, and I GREW A WHOLE INCH!!!!! 


	9. An Artistic Astoundment

Disclaimer: Meg Cabot owns Mia and all related characters that belong to her.  
Author's Notes: I'm soooo sorry you guys! I just really needed a break from this. I was getting so caught up in it!! i went on a date and i must have used the word 'totally' at least three times. But I'm back (by popular demand). Heehee!  
  
Saturday, January 5, 2:00 PM, the loft  
Good news: No more princess lessons.  
Bad news: School starts in two days.  
  
Ok, if I'm not gonna have princess lessons anymore, I think I should find something else to do after algebra tutorings to keep myself busy.  
  
Like an extra-curricular activity. Or a job.  
  
  
4:00 PM, the loft  
Upon consulting Lana about this, she said I should join cheerleading.  
  
Upon consulting Michael about this, he said I should join the computer club.  
  
Upon consulting my mother about this, she said I should get into painting.  
  
Upon consulting Tina Hakim Baba about this, she said she and I should both work at that little bookstore three blocks from school.  
  
  
Sunday, January 6, 5:00  
Nothing eventful today.  
School starts up tomorrow.  
  
  
Monday, January 7, Homeroom  
I know this was totally unprincessy of me, but I told Michael to wait outside ten minutes early when the limo stopped by so we wouldn't have to pick up Lilly.  
  
Funny though, in the limo, we had one of those awkward silences that I always had with Kenny but never with Michael.   
  
At least, it WAS an awkward silence until, out of the blue, I said, "Sabrina or Buffy?"  
  
  
G&T  
Michael and I actually did Algebra today.  
  
  
Lunch  
I invited Lana to come over and sit with Tina Hakim Baba and I. I told them all about my day. I'm feeling so miserable! I bet you Prince William's never miserable.  
  
Then again, that would make sense because he's extremely attractive.  
  
  
4:30, the loft  
Stopped by the little bookstore with Tina today. The old man there can't afford to hire people to work for him. Besides, he says, I manage things on my own.  
  
Tuesday, January 8, Homeroom  
Lana says that they just filled the empty cheerleading spot.   
  
Oh, well! It's not like I can do a cartwheel anyway.  
  
  
Lunch  
Ok, there's no way I could ever join the computer club. My algebra grades are just too good! NOT.  
  
  
4:00, the limo back to the loft  
OH MY GOD!!! YOU WON'T BELIEVE THIS!!  
I stopped by the art room today--and it was totally empty--but all the easels were set up with empty canvases--so i picked up a paint brush just for kicks--and I got totally into the spirit of it! And when the art teacher came back and saw what I did, she was so interested in it, and she actually wanted me to stop by at lunch tomorrow to finish it!!  
  
I didn't even realize I was painting because I was so caught up in it! I just started an outline of Fat Louie--and before I knew it, there was an outdoor setting in back of him and he looked like a (very massive) tiger in the jungle!  
  
I think I may have found my calling. 


	10. I Forgot the Lime Jello

Disclaimer: None of these characters except Miss McDougal and belong to me. Oh--and although I may write like Meg Cabot, I'm not her. So...no autographs. hahaha.  
  
Author's Note: OMG!! YOU PEOPLE ROCK SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU TIMES TEN BILLION! I can't believe I'm getting so much positive feedback! I feel so...uplifted! Thankoo, thankoo! Now shhh. I should be doing my algebra. Mommy don't know.  
  
  
Tuesday, January 8, G&T  
I spent my lunch period in the art room today. Michael's a little upset with me because he couldn't find me.  
  
Oh, well. Meanwhile, My art teacher, Miss McDougal, LOVES my work!! I ended up finishing the painting of Fat Louie, and she put it on an easel near her desk! She wants me to start on a van Gogh landscape. I've come to like his work, but i get the feeling he wasn't a very nice person. I mean...to cut off your own ear? Umm...ew!  
  
And oh, my God...I totally forgot to tell you!! My mom stopped puking all over the loft!!  
  
Yessss!!  
  
  
Wednesday, January 9, 5:00 PM, the loft  
I was talking to Michael online. He was really enthused about my interest in painting. He says I'm "expanding my artistic side."   
  
  
FtLouie: Um..are you calling me fat?  
  
  
I was just kidding, of course, but he went crazy, telling me how not-fat i was.  
  
So anyway, I was telling him all about this kid who was in the art room, Jeremy. He's a sophomore, and he's in the chess club.  
  
  
CracKing: Hahaha...the chess club? That's even worse for your social status than the computer club!"  
  
  
I was all, since when does Michael care about his social status?  
  
But anyway, he's really nice, and he's TOTALLY French. He even lived in Paris until he was twelve!  
  
  
CracKing: Hey...i can speak French, too, you know!"  
  
FtLouie: Since when do you speak French? As if!   
  
CracKing: Au contraire, mi amoor!  
  
  
Which was SO cute of him. Even if his French IS atrocious.  
  
...Atrocious. You like that word? I got it from Lily.  
When I used to be friends with her.  
  
Unfortuneatly, I had to sign off just then because I told Tina Hakim Baba I'd call her today. I totally haven't gotten much time to talk to her lately.  
  
OK. I'm gonna go down to my mom's studio with her. I want to paint with her and stuff.  
  
  
Thursday, January 10, Homeroom  
This morning, Mr. G was all, "Mia, do you need help with your homework? I'm a little concerned about your grades. They're slipping a little bit."  
  
I was all in shock, because I'd done my homework everyday this week. And I still have algebra after-school help that I'm still forced to go to.  
  
So I just went, "No...I know the material, Mr--Frank. Area, planes, PEMDAS, 1/4. Got it all."  
  
And he was just like, "Ok. If you say so."  
  
Duh. Of course I say so. 


	11. Bad Hair Day

Disclaimer: The Princess Diaries is the Sole Property of Meg Cabot and Anyone Else Who Says So Is A Big Fat Doufus.  
  
Author's Notes: I'm-so-sorry-I-have-all-this-schoolwork-and-I-forgot-about-how-dumb-I-am-for-not-writing-this-sooner-and-I-suck. I hope that helps.  
Sorry I couldn't have Mia and Michael eating the lime jello. There's lime jello in here, but i only met you halfway. Apologies!!  
  
  
  
Friday, January 11, On the way to school  
THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY!!!!!!!  
  
  
Still Friday, Algebra  
a+b= a postive  
-a+b = a postive  
a+(-b) = a negative  
-a +(-b)= a negative  
  
...I hate a almost as much as I hate b.  
Oh...and I'm failing again.  
  
  
Still Algebra  
...Ohmygod! I just realized that Mr. Frank is going bald.  
  
Not that I should talk.  
  
  
More Friday, G&T  
I totally pinched myself to make sure this wasn't a nightmare. Michael saw me, and informed me that this was, in fact, reality.  
  
As if!  
  
Ok, so maybe I should fill you in on why I'm being such a Grumpy Smurf. Yesterday...not only was I forced into a surprise visit with Grandma, she took me to see Paolo again.  
  
"Off," he said, waving his cigarette around like an annoying ferris wheel, "It all must go."  
  
Apparently, I "broke" my hair. I guess it's something only a deranged grandmother and a guy with an unbelievably fake French accent would know about, because it "all must go."  
  
And, oh boy, it went.  
  
And he put all this crap that looked like lime jello in my hair, and chopped it all off! And now, I basically look like a demented pixie. You should have seen Lana's face when she saw it. She took one look at me and cracked up in a way that only Lana can.  
  
I totally planned to wear a hat today, but Principal Gupta saw it and confiscated it.  
  
But not before Jeremy saw me in the hall with it. He said it was totally creative, and that he'd never seen anything like it.  
  
That is...hat, not the haircut.  
  
Thank God he didn't see the haircut. I definitly don't want him to see it.  
  
I mean, I don't want anyone to!  
  
  
I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Saturday, 6:30 PM  
I spent lunch in the art room, painting, so I wouldn't be forced to show my face in public more than the bare minimum.  
  
Miss McDougal said it looked really cute, which was totally nice of her, even if it WAS a lie.  
  
Now I'm TOTALLY jealous of Britney. Not only do I want her breasts, but I want her long hair, too.  
  
  
7:00 PM  
Mr. G kept grinning all day, whenever he saw me. Finally, I caught on.  
  
"What...is it that hair, Mr. G? THE HAIR?"  
  
"Why--" smirk, "No, Mia...where did you get...that idea?"   
  
I got really mad at him right then, with him laughing at my hair, and failing me and all, so I went, "You know what, Mr. Gianini? I really don't believe you're an authority on hair, especially since you're balding." 


	12. Better Hair Day

Disclaimer: Meg Cabot's property, I own Jeremy...blah blah blah...  
  
Author's Note: AHH! AHH! AHH! I'M SO SORRY I HAVEN'T WRITTEN! I keep apologizing but it doesn't seem to help! I'm such a bad word! Don't you hate it when people talk in exclamation points!  
  
  
Saturday, January 12, 12:23 PM  
Thank God I don't have to go to school today with this monstrosity of a haircut. I was considering transferring...but now i don't have to. Because it's Saturday. Wonderful, glorious Saturday.  
  
Ahh.  
  
  
2:56, the Loft  
Lana just called, telling me she saw me talking to "that hot French guy" in the halls and wanted me to introduce her to him.  
  
"That hot French guy" meaning Jeremy, of course.  
  
I don't really know why, but I'm totally uncomfortable with the thought of Jeremy and Lana meeting.  
  
5:36, the Loft  
I'm really bored.  
  
  
5:45, still in the Loft  
FtLouie: MICHAEL!  
CracKing: MIA!  
CracKing: What's up?  
FtLouie: My hair.  
CracKing: Well...yeah...I guess that's up...  
FtLouie: Noo! My Hair. What do you think of my hair?  
CracKing: I already told you that you look amazing.  
FtLouie: Yeah well...I don't believe you.  
CracKing: Shut up, Mia. You're beautiful.  
CracKing has signed off at 5:51 PM.  
CracKing has signed on at 5:52 PM.  
FtLouie: Did you get bumped or something?  
CracKing: No, I was trying to make a dramatic exit but it was hard parting from the internet for so long.  
  
  
Sunday, January 13, the limo back home  
Grandmére stopped by today.  
  
And somehow, even though I haven't talked to her since the Paolo incident, she dragged my into a New York church, which she pronounced after the mass was "dreadful."  
  
Honestly, why doesn't she go back to Genovia? I'm totally not stopping her.  
  
8:36 PM, The Loft  
Just got back from Paolo's. This time, it was by choice that I went. I called Grandmére and told her that if he didn't do anything about my hair, I'd bite my nails at the next Royal Genovian banquet I was forced to go to. She hung up on me.  
  
But then, three minutes later, a car screeched outside, and our buzzer rang, and it was Grandmére.  
  
So now it doesn't look as bad. Do I like it now? As if!  
  
I never thought I'd say this, but I really wish i had my plain-old-Mia, yield sign hair back. 


	13. Best Hair Day

Disclaimer: The Princess Diaries belongs to Meg Cabot.  
Author's Notes: Sorry this one is so late, I have the flu and just hadn't gotten around to it. Anyway...  
  
  
  
Monday, January 14, G&T  
Wow.  
  
Apparently, my haircut is amazing. More than that--it's retro, it's cutting edge, it's fashionable, it's...  
  
It's beautiful.  
  
Or so all the cheerleaders and the jocks said when Lana insisted I sit at their table during lunch. I was okay with it this time because she told me I could bring anyone I wanted along with me to make it more comfortable. Tina Hakim Baba came along, and so did Jeremy. I asked Michael, but he just laughed like I told a good joke, refused, and told me he'd see me later.  
  
I noticed Lilly staring enviously at me from my very old table, however. I started thinking she was only saying all that stuff about how being popular is bad for the immune system or whatever because she was actually jealous. Which reminded me of that fable we read once in third grade about the fox and the sour grapes.  
  
Or maybe that was grapefruits.  
  
Oh well.   
  
  
Monday, January 15, 9:35 PM, The Loft  
Michael just left.  
  
Mom went to the doctor for a checkup on the thing growing inside her, and Mr. G was grading papers in his bedroom, so I called Michael and told him to come over to watch some TV with me.  
  
"You know," he said, turning away from an episode of Happy Days I managed to find on HBO and towards me, "Lilly kinda misses you, and...I know you kinda miss Lilly."  
  
"Yeah?" I said, not taking my eyes off the TV, but not really watching it either, "How do you figure that?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know, Mia, you just...I don't know. I mean, Tina and Lana seem to make you happy and all, but you don't really seem...satisfied."  
  
"Tina and Lana are very good friends."  
  
"I didn't say they weren't."  
  
I didn't say anything. Michael turned back to the TV and we watched the Fonz slap the jukebox.  
  
"Hey, Michael?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Does she still talk about me?"  
  
  
Tuesday, January 15, Algebra  
Why can't the numbers be the numbers, and the letters be the letters? Why do we have to mix everything up like this??  
  
  
More Algebra  
That wouldn't be segregation, would it?!?  
  
  
More Algebra  
That sounds like something Lilly would say. She'd probably diagnose me with rascism against numbers.  
  
And that would be a joke, so we'd laugh.  
  
  
Still Algebra  
Michael's very right. I miss Lilly. 


	14. A Date with Destiny

Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess Diaries, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any characters belonging to these two series.  
  
Author's Note: I'M BAAAAAAAAAACK!!!  
  
Tuesday, January 16, 4:35 pm, in the limo on the way to the loft  
  
Stayed after school waay late to do some painting. Miss McDougal said that as long as I cleaned up when I was finished, the art room was all mine.  
  
Well...mine and Jeremy's.  
  
While he was scultping, he was telling me all about how he and his dad backpacked across Europe last year, so he missed his freshman year of highschool. Which was why he is one year older than everyone in the freshman class.  
  
I told him he's lucky. My dad would never in a million years take me backpacking across Europe, especially if it meant I would miss a year of school.  
  
Anyway, I decided that even though Jeremy wears braces, he's pretty cool. I mean, he isn't dorky-looking like Boris Pelkowski (even though Boris isn't a bad guy). In fact, I think his braces look okay on him.  
  
And then, he even taught me how to make something called a pinch pot using just clay!! It was interesting, but I told him I'd rather stick to 2-D art.  
  
6:30, the loft  
  
Lana just imed me.  
  
XcheerXleadrXnotXfollowrX: Hey, Mia! Listen, I'm totally free Friday and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go bowling with me?  
  
FtLouie: Well, normally I would say yes, but I actually promised Michael I would come over and watch the complete first season of Buffy with him.  
  
Which was true. I mean, I was surprised that I actually wasn't lying.   
  
XcheerXleadrXnotXfollowrX: Well...bring Michael along! And I'll bring someone too. It'll be like a double-date!  
  
OH, GREAT. Just what I need. I can see it now. Me looking dorky in bowling shoes with JOSH RICHTER, who would probably bring a camera and the entire press along with him.  
  
"Say no," a little voice inside of me said.  
  
But then, a different voice, a much larger and more powerful voice goes, "You know you'll say yes. You're such a weenie. You can never say no when you want to."  
  
FtLouie: Well...let me ask Michael and I'll get back to you.   
  
XcheerXleadrXnotXfollowrX: Ok. TTYL!  
  
FtLouie has signed off.  
  
9:30 pm, the loft  
  
Me: Hey Michael?   
  
Michael: Yes?  
  
Me: How would you feel if instead of watching Buffy Friday, we went bowling?  
  
Michael: Yeah...actually that sounds even better.   
  
Me: Oh, that's good. Um...Hey, Michael?  
  
Michael: Yes?  
  
Me: How would you feel if Lana and her date came along?  
  
Michael: ...Huh?  
  
2:00 am, the loft  
  
WHY WOULD I POSSIBLY TELL LANA THAT I WOULD GO BOWLING WITH HER AND JOSH RICHTER?!?!?!?!?!? 


End file.
